Ōdin
' ' He could still remember events of a long forgotten past. He could still remember glimpses of glorious warfare. Glimpses of a world he saw brought to ruin, unable to prevent it as something drew him out of his world in event known as the Manifestation. None would believe him if he were to voice his true age. But then again, he was unlike others who walked this realm. He had lived a life outside of the place they called home, and, he called a prison. It all happened very long ago, in another world and time where his name was known and revered, and, his power feared even by those who sat at his table. Who could’ve known that after surviving The Manifestation he would find himself reborn, if one could even call if that. Perhaps degraded would be a term more applicable as the great sundering of realms had stripped him of his former glory. Those of his kind unfortunate enough to be ‘sucked’ into the ominous rifts which suddenly appeared did not survive the inter-dimensional and involuntary journey which bore no regard to the laws of physics which they were used to. Ripped to shreds in a tragedy of flesh and bone, many of his brethren was slaughtered. Only few would survive the journey, among them ferocious monsters and gargantuan titans. He had used all of his strength in places where it answered his pleas, and he forced it from the pit of his being in places where it did not. However, even with all his strive, he could barely ensure safe passage. During this otherworldly journey he had lost his leg, his body had grown brittle and weak, and the raging storm within him came to subside to naught more than a single grey cloud. As he arrived in a land anew, with skies anew and stars anew he finally felt what it was like to be old. His bones would bones croak with each and every step taken in this new world. Yet as the years blew by his age did not come to proceed nor decline. A unusual byproduct of the Manifestation left him with the curse of longevity. A curse that trapped him with his sense of remorse over being unable to find his way back to those who had to face darkness without him at their side. He was stuck and trapped in a world where shinobi came to rise. They much reminded him of those individuals of his past who wielded the elements and many a supernatural gift. But they were a completely unknown people in terms of culture and traditions. Like his home world, this world too was home to many a evil in many a form. With time, he went from hermit to a reluctant merchant at times trading with a shinobi village. Here he was little more than a commoner. But his wisdom had served him well in the eyes of those knowledgeable enough to recognize it. Even without so much as a coin to his name he found the fondness of a local beauty drawn in by his sharp mind and shroud of enigma. She was blind but knew him to be the most handsome man ever born. Unfortunately she came from a well established clan who opposed her feelings. But she proved headstrong more than any. Paying no mind to those who looked down on him, she had loved him in a way reminiscent to the arms which once held him back in that golden paradise which he could only see in his deepest of dreams. As such he grew to love her back, soon followed by their union. Then, upon giving birth, she restored something which he had since long lost. Hope. Although reluctantly doing so, he chose to settle in her village, where the elders recognized his wisdom and appointed him Jonin to teach the young. A task he would not have taken if not for his son. Which greatly pleased his newfound relatives although the public perception of him did not change. Personality Traits This old man appears quick to anger and slow to forgive but assesses situations through a lens of objectivity and justice. He is, for instance, quick to complain about homeless people begging him for money. But, if recognizing how dire their situation, he would return when no one would be paying attention, preferably at night, would leave said same homeless people a large package filled with food and signed without name. As such, he can seem a very harsh teacher. But in truth he wishes the best for his students which is why he pushes them so far, knowing the brutality of the world outside the village. He is very sensitive to addiction and loves to gamble, drink and smoke. He doesn't mind cheating and lying when rolling the dice. But should it come to a physical confrontation he would be quick to run for his much stronger wife and seek her protection in the matter. His free time is oft spent tinkering away in his measly home. His thoughts spoken aloud would sound like the rambling of a madman to the neighbors having their sleep disturbed. He often speaks of a mythical apparatus which connected worlds with names that sounded like drunken gibberish. Of how Ragnarok had taken near everything from him. A place he had to go back to. People he had to protect. A world tree that had not yet fallen…. But to the outside world he was little more than a beggar in appearance and a castaway in thought who knew naught and had a far too beautiful wife. A limping old fool. If only they knew…. -He misses his right leg with is replaced by a crude wooden substitute. Likes Alcohol, tobacco, gambling, his wife (a bit too much), hardship, reading, taking long walks through the rain (sometimes being out for weeks on end) while testing the hospitality of those he meets upon his many journeys, singing songs no one ever heard of Dislikes Complaining (unless it's done by his wife), prestigious behavior/nobility, anything sour, small curves on women Power Score Library Casuals * Events * Fights * Missions * Training *